The Dragon and the Dreamwalker (Elemental Series) (34 page)

“You try to save yourself from the dragon, but yet you’re surrendering your love to me now.”

“Yes,
Dragon’s Son.
I am yours. Now bring me to the hearth and stoke the fire. I need to regain my energy so I can consummate our marriage properly.”

Drake did as she asked. In a few minutes he had her propped up on the rug, very close to the raging fire.

“Move me closer to the flames,” she told him. “I need the fire to regain my strength.”

“Any closer and that coverlet will go up in flame.”

“Then I’d best remove it, shan’t I?”

He watched as she dropped the coverlet and moved closer to the fire. She reached into the flames, rejuvenating herself in the warmth. He’d never seen anything like it. The flames lapped at her face, her hair, her arms, yet she didn’t burn. He kept wanting to pull her away, but the look in her eyes warned him not to do it.

The color returned to her cheeks and the glow to her eyes. She breathed in the flames and seemed to become one with them. She rubbed her arms and then her legs, stretching and moving slowly, coming to life a little at a time. Then she pushed back from the fire and opened her arms wide to him in a form of acceptance. Her rosy tipped nipples were soft and large, her breasts turned up in a perky way. Her stomach was flat, her hips rounded with a soft curve. Her body looked delectable and he felt himself hardening at the thought of taking her. The thought of truly making her his.

“Come to me, wife.”

At his command, she rose and walked to him, though he still sat upon the carpet. He carefully reached for her hips, running his hands along her thighs and then back to her buttocks, pulling her closer to his face. He tasted her then, and her knees buckled beneath her as she steadied her hands on his shoulders falling into him with a moan of pleasure. He lay back on the carpet, bringing her with him. Her breathing deepened as his lips found their way to swirl in her navel and trail up to her breasts, tasting them one at a time. Her back arched, her head thrown back in ecstasy, his tongue flicked and licked, tasting every bit of the woman that was his.

“Yes,” she moaned. “This is how it should be.”

She straddled his lap and his swelling manhood and trailed her fingers gently down his chest, following the jagged scars. Her lips followed, kissing each and every one of his wounds. He squeezed his eyes closed at the erotic way she squirmed atop him, no longer aware of any discomfort from his stitches or bruises. When she got below his waist he could hold back no more. He pulled her to him, and rolled atop her in one motion, entering his wife and becoming one.

Joined together, they rode the waves of the sea and flew the vast openness of the sky. Their bodies rocked in motion, their mouths pressed together with tongues dancing in rhythm, they consummated their marriage and finally became man and wife in their physical forms.

Spent and exhausted, he rolled over and dragged Brynn atop. She was replenished from the fire and rode him again, bringing Drake to another height so quickly, he thought for a moment he must still be
dreamwalking.
Then she lay her head gently against him, his arms wrapped protectively around her.

“You are now my wife in every way,” he told her.

“As you are my husband, my lord.”

“I love you, Brynn. I never thought I’d say the words as long as I lived, but now I know I was wrong not to say them sooner. I love you with my heart and soul.”

“Then mayhap ’tis not too late.”

“I don’t understand. Of what do you speak?”

“I’m speaking of your father.”

His body went rigid all of a sudden. He didn’t want to think about his father at a time like this.

“I don’t want to spoil our moment together. His name will not be mentioned again until I say so.”

“As you wish, my lord husband. But we need to talk soon. Your life as well as mine depends upon it.”

Chapter 26

A week passed quickly, and Drake and Brynn had spent most their time in bed. Making love should have been exhausting, but Drake realized it gave them both the strength and endurance they needed to heal. But time was wasting, and Drake knew he needed to confront the men in the dungeon who had betrayed him.

He walked to the dungeon, Brynn following quickly at his heels, the soft swish of her slippers reminding him this was no place for a lady. A guard nodded to him and opened the barred door. A rat ran by, and Brynn jumped out of the way with a squeal, holding on to Drake’s arm.

“Brynn, this is no place for you. Go back and wait for me in the great hall.”

“Nay, my lord. I’ve been to the dungeon many times when Thorndale belonged to my father. I’ll not be denied the same opportunity now that I’m your wife.”

“Hardly an opportunity,” he grunted. “All that’s here is stench and death.”

“I will not change my mind, lord husband. I will remain at your side.”

Drake knew arguing with her was fruitless. Sending her away would only make her ill-tempered. They’d gotten along so well for the last week, he hardly wanted to chance her disposition.

“As you wish,” he said and entered through the doorway, leading down the stone steps to the prisoners. Brynn held onto his sleeve, keeping up with his pace. The stench was putrid, but he didn’t hear Brynn complain once. Water dripped through cracks in the stone walls, and rats gnawed on bones in the corners. Moans from the men wailed off the walls, and he could feel Brynn’s fingers tighten on his sleeve.

“You can still retreat, my lady.”

“I’ll see the prisoners now,” she said with raised chin. Torches flickered on the walls, and a guard moved forward to greet them, keys jangling on a ring connected to his belt as he walked.

“My lord,” said the guard with a small bow. “Which prisoner did you need to see?”

“All of them that betrayed me,” Drake said, walking forward to survey the crowded cells.

The first cell they came upon held two of Drake’s knights, Sir Burgess and his brother, Sir Broderick, and a few of the villagers, including a woman.

“Why did you do it?” Drake asked his knights. “Why turn against your lord? Haven’t I treated you fairly?”

“’Twas Calais,” the younger knight, Broderick cried. “He filled us with lies about you. He said you planned on using us and then killing us off when you didn’t need us.”

Drake was glad to hear it wasn’t Brynn who’d organized the rebellion. She’d proclaimed her innocence in this matter, but still he had to be sure she’d never go against him again.

“I’ve never treated you with anything but respect,” he told his knights.

The older knight, Sir Burgess, was wounded badly, arm bleeding and almost severed. He raised his head and weakly called out, “You are the
Dragon’s Son
. We’ve seen Dracus. You would have us killed by him just to protect her!” He pointed a bloody finger at Brynn.

“Witch!” yelled the village woman. “Ye bloody witch! We are all cursed because of ye. Our children are not safe in their beds at night.”

Brynn gasped as she moved forward, and saw the two scrawny children hidden in the folds of her gown. They couldn’t have been more than four years of age.

“Quiet!” yelled Drake. “You hold your tongues or I’ll have fifty lashes for all of you. Even you, woman!”

“Drake!” Brynn pulled at his arm, and he continued to the next cell. A man came up to the barred door, shaking it vigorously.

“You killed my son and I’ll kill you if it’s the last thing I do.”

Brynn recognized the bedraggled, wounded man as Rowley, her father’s falconer. She let go of Drake’s arm and stepped forward. She reached out and touched the man’s hand.

“Rowley. You turned against me?”

“Not against you, my lady, against your evil husband. But now that you’ve laid with him, we know you’ve taken his side. Any friend of the
Dragon’s
is a foe of mine.”

“You cannot mean that,” she said. “You used to be such a happy man.”

He grabbed her hand, startling her. His wrist stuck out far from the bars.

“You cannot escape the dragon,” he told her. “His evil ways will consume you as well.”

The sound of Drake’s sword being pulled from his scabbard caused the falconer to pull back his hand quickly. Too late. Drake had severed the tip of the man’s finger, and the falconer screamed in pain as he fell to the ground.

“Drake!” Brynn screamed, horrified by her husband’s act. “How could you?”

“I will not tolerate those who betray me or touch my wife.” He pulled her away from the cell.

“But he wasn’t going to hurt me.”

“He and the others tried to kill me last night. Do you doubt they’d had come after you once they were done with me?”

Brynn knew he was right, but still she couldn’t hate Rowley or the others the way Drake did. They had reason to be angry with him, just as Drake did with them. Though her husband only acted as any warrior would, she didn’t like to see bloodshed, especially at her expense.

“We should have sacrificed you to the dragon and none of us would be here.”

Brynn looked over to the next cell to see Hermod and the Elders pressed against the bars.

“I knew you were trouble the first time I laid eyes on you,” said Hermod. “You’ve even cursed Calais by lying with him. Now he’ll end up giving his life for your little scheme.”

“Kill her!” yelled one prisoner.

“Make her suffer,” screamed another. Then they started up with a chanting of “Witch, Witch.”

Brynn suddenly felt no different than when she was up on the sacrificial stake. Why did she think these people would ever respect her? Why did she at one time want to turn them against Drake? She shook her head and backed away from the cells. Their words rang in her ears and their emotions settled in her heart.

“Did you want to see the rest?” asked the guard. “I’ve got three more cells all filled with the traitors.”

“I’ve seen enough.” Drake replaced his sword. “Get word to the executioner to be here in the morning.”

“Aye, my lord.”

Drake headed toward the door, doing nothing to stop them from taunting her.

“Executioner?” asked Brynn, running to catch up with him. “What for?”

“There’s going to be a killin’,” smiled the guard. “Which will it be, my lord? The old knight, the falconer, or perhaps the bitch with the sharp tongue?”

Drake stopped and looked at the cells. The prisoners shouted out obscenities, spat through the bars at Drake’s feet, and chanted ‘witch, witch, witch,’ together.

“Kill them all,” Drake ordered. “Kill every last one of them.”

“Nay!” screamed Brynn, trying to stop her husband’s order. Though these people taunted her, they didn’t need to die. She’d lived with this sort of treatment her whole life. Or was Drake going to kill them because of their betrayal to him? Either way, she couldn’t accept any more deaths at Thorndale.

“Come, wife. This is no place for you.”

He escorted her back past the first cell, and that’s when she noticed something she hadn’t before. The addlepated old man with the white hair stood by the bars near the front of the cell, watching her with haunting eyes.

“The dragon lives and we all will die. The two became one, but the dragon grows bigger from the union.”

“Old man,” said Brynn. “You are the one who helped put out the fire at the cave, are you not?”

“I am, Lady Dragon.”

The title he’d given her sent a chill up her spine. Lady Dragon, the old man had called her, and she knew it was true. She’d joined with Drake but had done nothing to help him conquer the dragon. The betrayers standing before her had every right to feel the way they did.

“Come,” said Drake.

“We can’t leave him here,” Brynn said. “He helped you in the cave, don’t you remember?”

“I do,” said Drake.

“Then save his life. He didn’t betray you. I spoke with him in the garden just before the dragon arrived. He warned me Dracus was coming.”

“I can’t trust anyone anymore, Brynn. If he’s in here, it’s because my men found him with the other betrayers. If I let him out, I’ll have to let the others go as well. I can’t do that.”

“You can’t let his life end this way.”

“He’s addlepated. It’ll be a blessing for him. ’Tis for the best.”

Drake pulled her to the door. Brynn looked back with tears in her eyes, would that she could do something for the old man. If only she could help Rowley the falconer, the village woman, and the children, Drake’s knights, and all the others.

“I’m sorry,” she said to the old man as Drake dragged her away.

“Our fate is destined,” he said, sounding as if he knew some ancient secret that could not be changed. “So is both of yours. ’Tis too late now. The dragon has spoken.”

Drake pulled her away, her gaze still on the old man, her mind pondering his words. She followed her husband up the stairs, shuddering when the guard locked the door with a loud clank after their exit. It didn’t seem right. While the prisoners did betray Drake, they’d only done what they thought would save them. Instead, it was that very act that would end their lives.